Tragic ending

For my creative writing class, we had to write a story about a character, who discovers something in three rooms.

Charles was walking home from work, on late summer, Friday night, humming a happy tune, ready for the weekend; he couldn’t wait to spend it with his family. He paused in front of his apartment. It was really something. Huge, white bricks, pretty glass beside the door, letting passersby’s see the chandelier. It was the place you’d work your whole life just to be able to call home. Usually, it felt very warm and inviting, But not today. Today, Charles had an awful gut feeling, and his gut was always right. A cold blast of wind hit him, and went right thru him. He hurried on inside, to escape that odd feeling. He knew something was terribly wrong immediately. It was way to quiet. Usually his wife, Suzie, and his two children Tomas and Zeke, were running to the door to greet him. But the house wasn’t even breathing. He looked down at his feet, and saw a thin trail of dark red blood. His heart stopped, and everything was in slow motion as he walked down the richly colored wood floor. The trail led down the white, almost spotless hall, up a wide winding staircase, and into his study room. The study room was a huge room, with a single desk, papers spread out all over it, and an old desktop computer. There was a single green rug, but that was it for furnishings. There was a window seat, that over looked the front of the house, and the street below. It was where Charles did all of this work. Charles feeling of dread grew as he saw that the trail of blood led to this room. He took a deep breath, and then pushed open the thick oak door. He gasped out loud when he saw the absolute horror in that room. Bloody hand prints marked on the walls from someone trying to escape. There was no shortage of blood; it was everywhere, along with the stacked papers on his desk. The desktop computer was smashed into a billion pieces in one corner, and the desk itself was tipped over. There were, to his relief, no bodies in the room. But still, how could there be so much blood, pooled all over. He knew he should call the cops, but he had to check the rest of the house, he had to find his beloved family. He thought of them for three seconds. Suzie, with her long curtain of naturally black hair, and bright blue eyes. She was his best friend, had always been his best friend. She was very fragile though. His spit got caught in this throat. This could very well be her blood… then he thought of his little seven year old Tomas, who had inherited his mother’s looks. An exact copy of her. This could be his blood too...And poor little ten year old Zeke, who Charles had told this morning that he was the man of the house while daddy was away. He had said it, as he always did, to make Zeke feel important. He shuddered and stepped out of the disturbing room. He had a sudden urge to check his bedroom. His feet turned to lead as he softly stepped down the hall. This door was oak as well. He didn’t open it right away. He thought of it, the light blue walls, the dresser, the messy bathroom that was connected to it. The way the morning sunshine would filter through the white curtain or how in the summer, when Suzie would leave the windows open, how the fresh breeze would move those curtains gently. He opened the door quickly shutting of the train of thought. He was almost expecting what was in this room. It was a mess, like his study room. Blood was here as well, but not as much. Instead, there laid his wife, her neck twisted into an odd angle, her dark hair stained red, and knotted. Her face was bashed in; her right cheek was sunk in, as if it had been hit. Blood still poured from an open wound in her mouth. He gagged when he saw her once beautiful green eyes. One was hanging from the socket, like an oversized marble connected to a weird piece of yarn. The other one had been dug at, little holes in it. Her nose was broken off. His eyes traveled down from her face to her body. He did throw up his lunch when he saw it. Her stomach was cut wide open, from her lungs all the way down to her lower intestines. Her liver, kidneys, and upper intestines were hanging loosely out of her body. She was also missing an arm. It smelled like burnt copper in here. Tears wanted to stream down his face, but he had to find his kids. He could only hope that Tomas and Zeke were ok. That’s what his heart wanted him to believe, but his mind told him that there was a very good possibly that they ended up just like their mom. He left his once bedroom in a hurry. He didn’t shut the door, he just wanted out of that room. That, that body that had once been his wife, was no longer his wife. He wasn’t sure where his wife was, but she was no longer on this earth. This time he headed straight for Tomas’ and Zeke’s room. It was at the other end of the hall, and was marked by a blue homemade sign, that said in foam letters Tomas and Zeke’s awesome room, DON’T ENTUR with a soccer ball on it. Charles grabbed the handle and twisted it. He was in his body, but he was experiencing an out of body experience. Maybe it was his body going in protective mode from shock. He flung the door open. There was a strange man in Tomas’ and Zeke’s room. His back was turned to Charles, but he could make out the man was wearing an old, tattered black coat, that was stained with something dark. His hair was bushy, and dark. He smelled of, well, the man smelled like death. He was wearing torn up jeans, with army boots. He was chewing on something. Charles took a step in the room, and suddenly the man whirled around. His eyes were crazy. Charles saw what he was chewing on. It was a small arm, with finger nails that had dirt under them. Charles looked around, and what he saw, devastated him. Zeke was crumpled up in the corner by the window, his head bashed open, and pieces of brain oozing out. Tomas was on the bed, or what was left of Tomas. All that was on the bed was his torso. His legs, arms, and head were all severed, and laying in random spots in the room. It was his arm the stranger was eating. A ripping feeling tore thru Charles. Tears that wouldn’t come earlier came now. All he had was gone. He let out an animal screech and lunged for the man that took it from him. He meant to choke the life out of him, to let him feel the pain his family must have felt in their last moments. He had lost it all anyways, so he had nothing else to lose. Charles was dead wrong; he had one last thing to lose. His life. Or maybe, his life was gone the moment he came home to the quiet house. The crazy man guessed his move, and snapped Charles head off, ending Charles pain.

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